


If Love Was A Plane

by Lothiriel84



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Falling In Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-06 02:51:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8731990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothiriel84/pseuds/Lothiriel84
Summary: Anyway: silly question, I know, because obviously you live in the air now, but d’you fancy comin’ in?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fractionallyfoxtrot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fractionallyfoxtrot/gifts).



> Written as part of the Fandot Secret Santa Exchange.

At first MJN Air’s new captain was nothing but a voice at the other end of the radio. Martin was mildly annoyed at Karl’s complete disregard for the correct use of standard phraseology, Karl wished that the Captain would understand it was just a bit of harmless fun and he actually knew how to do his job.

That was until he got to meet the man in person, with his freckles and ginger hair, and his desperate need to prove he was just as good as anyone else. Karl couldn’t quite remember the last time he’d used the phrase ‘annoyingly cute’ to describe another man, but that was exactly what Martin was, and he knew he was smitten.

For a long time he didn’t really do much about it. Martin seemed completely oblivious to the small hints he kept dropping from time to time, and Karl couldn’t quite tell whether it was because he wasn’t interested, or merely couldn’t believe that someone would look at him that way.

Then came a trip to New York, and he wasn’t sure how MJN Air ended up flying to Qikiqtarjuaq – all he knew was that when they finally landed in Fitton Martin was in a decidedly bad mood, and none of Karl’s usual quips managed to get a rise out of him.

He found the Captain standing on the tarmac later that evening, staring at the lemon which was for some reason taped to the top of his hat.

“Martin?” he called, not quite sure how to read the stiffness in his posture, the way his shoulders were hunched and his face hidden in shadows.

Martin looked up for a moment, then went back to tracing the shape of the lemon with the tip of his finger. “Go ahead,” he muttered, his voice toneless as if he was holding back something painful. “I know you want to.”

“What should I want?” he replied at length, not sure he understood. The only thing he wanted was to snatch Martin’s hat with that incongruous lemon taped to it, and hold his hands instead.

The other man shrugged. “Tell me I’m not really a professional pilot, so I’d better stop posing as one.”

“I – what?”

“Oh, come on,” Martin’s laugh was bitter, and Karl felt something shatter somewhere inside his chest. “Everyone knows I’m just a pathetic joke for an airline captain, it’s only a matter of time before even Arthur-Everyone’s-Brilliant Shappey realises as much.”

Karl couldn’t quite stop himself this time, his hand coming to rest gently on the Captain’s shoulder. “Martin, you must be joking. You’re the one who always tells me off for not being professional enough for your standards, remember?”

“Yeah. You probably don’t even think I deserve to be treated as a professional, right? I bet you don’t do that with the other pilots – you know, real pilots, who actually get paid to do their job.”

His mind stalled for a moment at the implication that Carolyn would – no, he would file that for later, there were more pressing matters to deal with right now.

“I – you can’t think – ” He paused, then suddenly decided that the truth was probably his better option. “I was _flirting_ with you, Martin. I’m sorry if that made you think – whatever it is you’re thinking.”

The Captain spun around so quickly he took a step back for good measure. “You were – ?”

“I know. I’m sorry. Probably not one of my best moments, I admit, but – ”

Martin let out something in between a sob and a laugh, and the next thing Karl knew there were arms around his neck and warm breath caressing his face. He vaguely registered something hitting the floor – probably that ridiculous lemon – right before all of his thoughts fled away.


End file.
